


Dragon

by x_carnivale_x (commodorecliche)



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drug Use, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Relationship Problems, Unhealthy Relationships, dragon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:36:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commodorecliche/pseuds/x_carnivale_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The first time - the very first time - is just a pick-me-up. That's the best way that Zach can think to describe it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> Slight AU in which Zach and Chris have known each other since childhood. An AU in which they do not have a perfect, problem-free relationship.

The first time - the very first time - is just a pick-me-up. That's the best way Zach can think to describe it. It's a pick-me-up... and nothing more. Chris has had a bad day and Zach can tell all the way from across the bar where he's sitting. It's the hang of Chris's head that gives it away. They've known each other for too long for little things like that to slip by unnoticed. Zach blinks steadily and pushes his chair back, hopping down and striding over to Chris. When he puts his hand on his shoulder, Chris startles and turns his head, letting out a breathy chuckle of relief when he realizes it's only Zach.

Zach can't help but note the sickly, purplish/yellow tinge that's blushed onto Chris's cheek. He sighs.   
  
"Bad day?" Zach asks calmly. Chris doesn't respond, opting instead to simply roll his eyes and order a double vodka tonic from the bartender. Zach clears his throat; amends his statement: " _Really_  bad day?"   
  
"You're getting warmer," Chris murmurs as the bartender slides his drink over.   
  
"I'm guessing that it probably has something to do with that lovely purple tint you've got on your cheek. Pray tell, Christy; is that fresh color courtesy of what's-his-face, Dave? Dale? Da-"  
  
"Daniel," Chris finishes for him. "His name is  _Daniel_. And if you must know, then yes, it is."   
  
"You certainly do have a knack for attracting assholes," Zach remarks idly, picking slightly at the skin around his cuticle.   
  
"I attracted you, didn't I?" Chris snarks back with a crooked smile and a quirk of his head.  
  
"Oh, please, I was twelve," he counters. Chris just hmphs and Zach drops his hand back to his shoulder. "Come on, Christy, why do you put up with that shit?"   
  
Chris doesn't respond, his gaze drifting back down to the bar where his empty glass sits, and Zach lets out a curt breath. He twists his tongue between his teeth, letting his canines gnaw down into it for a moment as his fingers tighten their grip on his friend's shoulder. Chris's eyes lift back up to his face and Zach slips on a half-hearted smile for his sake. Zach ticks his head back towards the back rooms of the club.   
  
"Come here, love... I know what'll make you feel better."   
  
The first time is just a pick-me-up. That's all. Just something that he and Chris do so that Chris might feel a little better. They've been best friends since 7th grade and he hates to see Chris so wrung out, so tired, so listless. Chris is his boy, and he's Chris's too, no matter who else might come into the picture. They look out for each other, take care of each other. Zach just wants him to feel good again, to feel alive and loved again.

The first time it happens is just to make Chris feel better... That's all.   
  


**::**

  
  
The second time is different. It’s different because the second time, Chris is shaking and crying, telling Zach about how he finally broke it off with Dave... Daniel... Whatever his name is. Chris cries and tells Zach how Daniel had shouted, how Daniel had hurt him, and Chris's fingers tremble as they cling tightly to the fabric of Zach's cotton t-shirt.   
  
As they sit alone in Zach's house, Chris's head resting against his chest, fingers still clutching his shirt with a vice-like grip, he quivers sporadically and wipes his eyes against Zach. He sniffles as delicately as he can - tries to keep it quiet and polite - and gives up, eventually relinquishing his grip on Zach to wipe his nose on the back of his hand.   
  
He tells Zach that he just needs to take the edge off.   
  
Zach wants to help him, wants to make him feel good again, wants to make him not so afraid of the world. He wants to take Chris and steal him away; he just wants to make everything better... wants to distance Chris from all of this and make it so he isn't so lock up inside his head.   
  
The second time isn't really a pick-me-up; not like the first time. The second time is just to ease some of the pain, to remind Chris that he's loved, to remind him that Zach is there for him whenever Chris might need him. Zach knows that this probably isn't what they should be doing right now - Chris should probably be dealing with this break up... No, he should be fucking rejoicing to be rid of that cretin, Darren, no,  _Daniel_ , sorry. But Zach knows that Chris is just hurting right now, and he knows that Chris just wants to forget things for a little while, wants to feel a real rush of happiness again and not have to worry or care. The second time is just to take Chris away for a little while, not to keep him. Plus, Zach knows he could never say no to Chris.   
  
"Please, Zach..."   
  


**::**

  
  
The third, fourth, and fifth times are just recreation, honestly. Chris leaves each time with fresh marks across his skin, remnants from their private evenings spent together, and Zach has his own markings to show for the last few times Chris has visited. Chris has finally slipped back into a joyful state again, finally happy to be free, finally ready to have fun, ready to feel alive again. He wants the rush, the initial pain, and the subsequent euphoria. Zach wants it too, even if he doesn't want to admit it. He can't help it - he  _likes_  to give Chris that pleasure, likes to know when Chris feels good. He likes to know that Chris thinks the two of them are always fine, even if they won't be fine forever. Zach wants Chris to have this as long as Chris wants it. He'll let himself have it for as long as he can keep it.   
  
The next few times they do it, it's just for fun. There's no pain they have to edge off, no happiness they have to reinstate - just pure pleasure, rapture, and exquisite sensation. It's unlike anything they've ever felt before - the two of them always feeling it together, because they do  _everything_  together.   
  
The third, fourth, and fifth times are just because they want to. Not because they need it.  
  


**::**

  
  
It's when Zach loses track of how long they've been doing this that things start to change. A pick-me-up had become a need; a need became a hobby; and a hobby had become a recreational pastime. Zach's got friends in all the right places, and he's always known exactly  _what_  to get and where to get it. But when Zach loses track of how often they do it, how many times it's happened, it all starts to shift back into something that they need... something they crave... something they  _love_.  
  
Chris shakes and shivers when he can't have it; he trembles and tells Zach how much he wants it, how bad he needs it, and just  _please, Zach, please_. Chris begs him, and Zach crumbles every single time because he loves it too, and wants it to happen just once more. Always just once more. He loves to give Chris this, loves the way Chris needs him, loves the way Chris needs the feeling.  
  
Zach wants him to feel good - he's said that a million times. He wants him never to suffer or feel any pain and so he caves in each and every time Chris asks and quivers and pleads. It's a comfort that Chris needs and Zach will give it to him every single time.  
  
He takes him in his arms, his back against Zach's chest as Chris leans back into him. Zach lowers the two of them down to the pristine white tile of the bathroom floor, sitting up against the wall down below the sink. Chris is still trembling and Zach can feel a shiver coming on, threatening to wrack his own body as he blindly reaches up into the drawers above him to get the items they need.   
  
Chris wraps the tourniquet himself, his fingers barely deft enough to keep their hold on it, and he tightens it by tugging on the tie he's got clenched between his teeth. His veins throb and Zach tries to give him the syringe, but Chris just shakes his head with his eyes still closed, his mouth still clasped around the rubber chord that's laced around his arm. He pushes the needle back to Zach - tells him weakly:   
  
"You do it..."   
  
Zach pauses... because Chris has never asked that of him before. Zach swallows thickly and nods his agreement before he gives himself the time to think, taking the syringe back into his palm. Chris hangs his head forward a little, tremors occasionally still wracking his pale, fragile form as Zach taps at the crook of his arm.   
  
"Alright, hold still. I got you, baby," Zach tells him gently.  
  
A sigh slips past Chris's lips as the needle enters his arm. Zach pushes down the plunger and watches his veins throb as the drug enters Chris's system. His mouth goes slack, releasing the tie of the tourniquet from between his teeth. There's a moment right after when his veins stand out as clear as day: Chris's white, clammy skin seemingly translucent for an instant, before the blue lines fade out again, hiding underneath a few months worth of track marks.   
  
"Zach..." Chris breathes delicately, his voice barely above a reverent whisper.   
  
The needle's still stuck in his flesh, resting idly in the crook of Chris's arm as if it were always supposed to be there. Zach pulls it out as slowly as he can. Chris's head lolls back against his shoulder; barely conscious, limp and euphoric. The younger man's shaking has stopped, his breathing is steady, and Zach presses his temple against Chris's sweating brow. The initial rush has come and gone by now, and now Chris is up, finding the comfort that he needs. Chris feels small against Zach's body, and Zach understands the feeling, understands how good it is.   
  
He knows what Chris needs... And Zach always takes care of him. They've been best friends since 7th grade; Chris is his boy. Zach looks out for him and he just wants him to feel safe again. He hates to see Chris in pain, hates to see him so wrung out.   
  
So he'll do this each and every time Chris asks. After all, this was always just for Chris. Zach just wants him to feel alive, to feel good, to feel loved again. Plus... he knows he could never say know to Chris. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a piece written a while ago as an effort to overcome a nasty case of writer's block. I really do like how this one came out. It's definitely one of the darker pieces I've written. 
> 
> I would love any thoughts or feedback y'all might have. Thanks so much for reading. 
> 
> I also have a [tumblr](http://commodorecliche.tumblr.com). Feel free to check me out if you'd like!


End file.
